Newspaper Page Text
XXIII.
LQ1 E S SEASONS.
-—
Full flower* 1 ytimrner lies upon the land.
Slips vnur h'md your hair ~ and tlien
into mine, lo, we two understand
That love is sweet.
The roseleaf fails,the color fades and dies,
The sunlight fades, the summer bird-like
, ,b«d e w« tal
Is love so sweet ?
The flowers are dead, the land is blind
with rain;
The bud of beauty bears the fruit of
'Can paiu —
any note revive the broken strain,
Tslove so sweet?
The world is cold, and death is every-
J where;
turn to you, and in m iy heart’s despair
Find pe:u-3 and rest We know, through
foul or £Air,
That love is sw^et
Pall Mall Gazette
H JUST PUtilSHIUENT.
Two people were sitting.on the veranda
of an Indian bungalow; a tall rnan of
about forty, handsome and bronzed, and
a girl about fifteen years younger, fair and
delicately pretty. From within came the
distant sound of a piano and violin, and
without, at the bottom of tlic compound,
was tin ceaseless sigh and whisper of the
1
i ver.
"The air feels almost like England to-
y," said the man. “When I shut my
eyes 1 can fancy myself at home.”
“Do you long so much for England?”
vaid the girl, looking up with a smile.
"U '8 all so new to roc and so full of inter-
cat. that l don’t want to go back at all.”
“Ah, Miss Graham, if you had been an
exile for ten year,, as I have, you’d know
>vhat the i„n>d'c- is ’
”
i A Pen vears: "said the " girl, sympatheti- J 1
• ally “Yes, I shall want to go back long
before that.”
“I was only home for a mouth then,”
wt nt on the man, as if he found it hard to
leave the subject. “Twenty years of my
life I have spent in strange countries and
among strange peoples, and now I’m get¬
ting .-Iff and England is calling, calling to
me louder aud louder as the days go by.
I’ve learned what it is to be homesick,
Miss Graham.”
“Then why not go home?” said the
gill, gently. "Surely”—
“Why not?” the man laughed a little
bitterly. “You see 1 am reaping thc re-
wards of a missneut youth Isrot -T into
hi tapes when I was at home wasn’t
worse than other people, but t was a bit
more reckless. I belong to a respectable
family, you see, and it’s part of the eon-
tract, that I don’t co back unless”________
“Unless.......what?” asked the girl, softly.
“Unless I marry, and take ray wife
back with me.”
girl, laughing. it’s either slavery or exile,” said the
‘Don’t laugh, Miss Graham,” said the
man, earnestly. ‘The truth is. I have
never seeu a woman I wished to make my
wife until”_________
“Alison,” said a voice at the window,
“will you have a scarf? There is quite a
breeze, and your dress fs very thiu.”
The man muttered something under his
breath, as the girl rose and turned to take
the scarf. She stood at the window a few
minutes, and odd words and phrases of
talk, punctuated with laughter, came bro¬
kenly to the man’s ears.
“There goes my chance,” he said, un¬
der bis breath. He got up and leaned
over the railing looking out upon the
river. When the girl came hack to her
seat lie turned towards her.
“Do you mind if T smoke, Miss Graham?”
he said.
“Oh, no, l like, it,” she answered, smil¬
ing. She leaned back in her chair, gath¬
ering the scarf round her, aud looked up
at him. still smiling, while be lit his
cigar.
"Jessie has been telling, me a most ah-
surd storv that George has just brought
borne,” sbe »W. -TV . oloncO «He
has got a new nurse girl liom England.
and she lias been, causing great interest
and excitement among the men. D> day.
farored bcr
cod. at last, Ibcro was a regular stand up
« e ht. In tho end, when some one in au-
tbority interfered and separated the
bruised and gory combatants, (bo girt an-
nonuced her preference for another uurn
-Vlio had been a peaceable spectator of the
light. George says no one was more
surprised than tho man himself, aud
ihere were at least six other men wlu> con¬
sidered they had claims. One cun t help
laughiug, though it isn't a thing to be
amused about, really. I thiuk they ought
to send the girl straight back to
England.”
“Oh, come, Miss Graham, perhaps she
did not mean to do any barm.”
“No,” said the girl, bitterly. “The
people who flirt never mean to do harm, 1
balieve, but that does uot make it any less
cruel.”
* rcry ' w '’
*
contemptible on either side.”
“But, Miss Graham.” remonstrated the
man, “it doesn’t follow always that flirt-
; na merits all the hard 'names V ou
It Sometimes I fancy. H
may be a very ' innocent form of
nie ,,t ■»
“Ab, you 'said don't understand, you don’t
know,” the girl, earnestly. “You
are too simple and honorable yourself to
guess what it may mean When it's iuno-
cent amusement- un one side and not on
the other. Tint game I,so seldom n aye,
fsirly on both sides. Perhaps I should
tare thought like you but for some,lung
that happened when l was very yonur. I
cron never forget—I cau never think light-
again--” ”
ly of flirting
‘Her voice stopped with a little quick
catch of thc breath; the man looked at
ber with a face full of sympathy and in-
terest. Presently--be went ou again
“I U tell you, if you like it doe-u'i
matter now who knows. I had a friend—
my dearest friend, though she was some
years older than I. 8 he died six year-
ago, and I was with her much of the tun--
that she was ill. Thev called it all sorts
of thiugs. aud no one knew but 1 that she
died of a broken heart. 1 supj-.»-e it
was one *>f those cases of innoreui aimi-
ment.
“Her jteopl i-t-il t > u<» .•-try sum- i*r
to a little watering place, where they uati
The Toccoa News.
& cottage and a boat. One year there wa 9
a young man there, handsome, clever and
attractive, and with some halo of romance
and heroism about him that made him
specially interesting. Mabel liked him
from the first, and when he began to de-
vote himself to her, as he did almost at
once, there grew up an Understanding be-
tween them that, in Mabel's eyes, wa-
and it never occurred "S of^rtii^
to her that an hon-
orable man could mean anything but that,
Of course, iD her eyes, this man was the
embodiment of honor, and courage, and
every other virtue.
“Mabel had said nothing to her people,
Tneie was no formal engagement, you
know, no ring, and .[a,el was ashy
and sensitive girl. She dreaded, the
publicity and the fuss of congratulations.
She was not afraid of opposition, her lover
was a good enough parti, and she was
glad that no one should know for a little
while. One day she awoke to the fact
that she ought, perhaps, to speak. Her
lover had j e'suaded her to meet him by
the river, alter dusk, and they were to go
for a row. Mabel had rather reluctantly
consented to this plan, foi her people weie
* a Solaced, and she did not
,0 > would like> it. In fact, after
1 1D e lD ° <0 te ! ,not jer a3 a
, ’
,nattcl . , conrse as the day j she ,
’ wore on
?’ 1D 1 j JJ aore an ^ nio r e dilbcult to s P ea k
°. 1 , worri(! ^ herself quite ill,
s l j.j not , waut 10 break her
j , ouM promise,
:1U( ' S "C < see no way of keeping it.
As luck would have it, her people were
inner Dex ^* i I abe , l 00 , r [ looked ul , a T ldet wretched rubber
’.. so
, r 1110 :,u 8 S® sted sb should sta\
® at
borne , and go early to bed, and she gladly
acre l ,letl tbe excuse.
‘ ** soon as 1 *? y ' v cro gone she put on
a bght wrap and hastened to the tryst.ug
p,ac V’, det cr “ lluI ?g as sbc ™ nt <, hat she
P le ncxt f da , Y- her Tl,e ^ ver P ath , * ^ h Y thc t0 nver . bcr pc0 was '
a private footway used by the residents
anli visitors by courtesy of thc owner.
The meeting-place was an old boat-house,
about a mile and a half away. When
Mabel reached it she was hot and ex¬
hausted, for she had hurried, partly be¬
cause she was a little late and partly from
nervousness. She heard the sound of oars
out in the stream, and paused a moment
to listen, thinking towards it was her lover’s boat,
hut it was going the harbor, and
thc sound soon died away. She sat down
on a log and waited Presently footsteps;
°°T? ’fV " 5 f, on § A * he 7 P ath r0r m °* * d e dl8covery her SU(1 U P !
J en,y cai ? e over 1,er bhe c f P i r T° ;
’
thc boat * hou3e , S eut, y Pushed , the door
op«», and step,red inside, so that she was
T h / dden by the 8had ?'\\ T h ° ’
'
f fcar eps ll,at bcr 0 !ndm °.^. , by 5 a P*** “ d Mabe would 1 be d.s
< ovcred - 1 reswitly she heard more loot
aleps aud , tbc
’ ? vo,ces; a party of tlll ' ec or
fo ™ 1,ad c°mc out for an evening .
' valk ' 1 hey d,d not P ass .the boat-house,
lu " ove, ’> aud af(er a little while they
turned and retracted their steps. Mabel
d 7! ; stauc e, and \ S then c,r folio ^| CeS wed ^ them away stealthily. “ 1,0
1C c .° 1 aud dlzzy ’ but y ( 11 nul
clarc , t0 hurry lest she should overtake
bhe got home without having s
been seeu by any one, and went straight to j
bed.
“In (lie morning she was very ill, low-
fever the doctor said, and it was some
days before she was able to sec any one,
At last, when she was getting better, she
learned the truth. Her lover had gone
away—had left thc country thc very night
that lie had asked her to meet him, vm
one kuew how or why. ‘Called away on
business,’ his people gave out. and nobodj
else lmd any explanation to offer. But
Mabel kuew, for in the early days of her
convalescence, when she was allowed to
sit in an armchair on the veranda, or to
have her bath-chair pulled up among the
brackeu and heather ou thc headland,
first one and then another of her own per¬
sonal girl friends came and sobbed out
ju*t such another story of heartbreak and
decc l ,tio "' Am* not a word of explana-
repen ame del he send to any one
1,*^ !ph
!mvt , llug ]>nl vsica) She liever ou ,
ret ;u y Well again.‘ They took her abroad,
i, ut ^ never S eemed to get any stronger!
:,u U ‘ , 'f, ** l,erdl '""!»*“> «*»* '» a “ d docl ? rs
s«<l 1 they might as well , let ucr have lien
***• t-o tbey look her back to the bide
h oura at bcaheld •-
' be baif.burut cigar
'bopped , from the , man s nervous Ungers as
,lle word br °ke from him involuntarily
•Yes. do you know Seafield ?” asked
Hie girl in surprise.
•‘And your friend—was it Mabel tabu-
sae?” His face bad gone very pale under
■MaW , Cahusao, .. , yes. < ll Captain
Aldenbam, did you know Mabel?”
“I met her—once." Fred Aldenbam
spoke with a ereat effort. “Miss Graham,
did youhear-theuame-of the man ? '
“No,” said the girl, sadly. “Mabel
would nut tell me that. And I don’t even
know whether his people w ere visitors or
“
ever knowing.
:\ F ™ " hlch 1,0 may thauk heaven.
ta, d Aldenbam 1 £ fei\eutlj.
' Xon knew ^ catle ‘ d ai 'd A 011 knew
Mabel!” said the girl, softly and wonder-
Pl^e hjglj- has H°" often strange been m it my all seems mind . The 1
since
ca lue hl re ' The river sounds just like
| lus . ; and , d t ‘ e '-f vdons slo fic down to us
3™* llk '’ the compound here.
' Y es. said Ahteuham iu a low tone
11 ? 7 “oMiome'"
|e me
( ^ ^ ‘" ihe'tw f'm”^udh.^
, c „ m 7he “nd
££™ b rtralw £ “ to ™k
uminhoitueoiuLiiruen.
I don’t wonder you long for home,”
said the girl, gently. “Seafield is such a
lovely spot! It must have beeu hard to
tome swsv."
-Y'es.” said Aldenbam. rising suddenly,
“\Ybeta a man get> to ray age things begin
to alter. 'When I was voumistei I
wanted to see fife. 1 wanted to cet as
much fun out of the old show as possible,
and I was glad of the chance of getting io
touch with a younger, freer, more spun-
pmcous growth of civilization. I tried
everything. Miss Graham. I’ve herde-.l
crule on the prairie. I've washed for gold
ia :i‘j -African river. An 1 finally, fate
un? here, in them i of It English
society. more conventional, more dull,
TOCCOA, GA., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 7. 1895.
more corrupt than anv I could find
home, in order that I might learn, I sup-
pose, the value of the English life I had
forfeited. I have learnt it. and I long for
nothing better uow than a cozy house in
my native j*laee. with a few acres to farm,
and a boat on the river. I want to know
my brothers’ and sisters’ children, and, be-
fore it’s loo late. I want to see my
" , * tar '
There was sileuee for a few moments;
the girl was deeply moved, but she could
think of nothing that was not trite and
commonplace to say. The endless sweet
song of the river beneath them seemed to
he mocking at the human passion it had
stirred.
“Miss Graham,” said Aldenbam, speak-
jng with sudden resolve, “I’ve douc many
things in my life that you would not like
—that j ( i oa q like myself; but I believe
no man can feel himself worthy of the
woman he asks to be his wife. -Perhaps—
there may be some things you would put
against that on the other side. I don’t
wau’t to plead that; if there’s any hope for
me it won’t be because I deserve it, but
because-”
“Oh, please don’t say anything more—
p m go sorry, so very, very sorry.” The
g ir i p a( j v i seu and was standing before him
w itli a face of utter bewilderment and
consternation. “Oh, Captain Aldenbam,
j ne ver knew, I never guessod—ob. I hope
you didn’t think----”
“No. I had no light to think—any-
thing,” said the man, gravely and sadly,
“>n ss Graham, if T wait- is there no hope
forme?’’
The girl shook her head.
• vvould be no use,” she said,
.“Miss Graham—will you tell me—is
tkere some oue else?”
Alison lifted her head, and steadied her
voice by an effort,
“Yes, Captain Aldenbam;” she said,
"there is—some oue else.”
She held out her baud to him in fare¬
well, and he took it a moment between
both his own.
“Then good-by,” he said.
“Good-i'y,” said Alison, gently; then
she turned and went swiftly in through
the window.
Fred Aldenbam stood a moment listen¬
ing to the wash of the river, Then he
drew a cigar from his case, and cut the
end off slowly and deliberately.
"Poor Mabel,” he said, as he lighted it,
"after all, she has her revenge.”
HREPLACE MOTTOES.
They Can Be Etched Into Wood
With a Hot Poker.
Over tho fireplace in straggling
™ bred u UWy P«n ^ the c " tlhn 7 . ed ^' appropriate ■
devices and sentences. It is not an
expensive fad. and is something m-
dicative of real individuality. As
instances. Welcome ye to this cot-
tag0 by tho sea, ’’ or Welcome ye to
co t by the old oak tree,’’ or what;
ever 1 ree be nearest. Again, "Come,
bask in my cheerful warmth Find
in mv lire, your heart’s desire;’’
1 Good cheer, find ye here;’’ “In
gladsome mirth, gather around my
hearth; Shall I not take mine
ease beside my fireside?”
These or other mottoes might be
etched into wood, for a cottage, by
poker work, a decorat ion ov which
too little is generally known. I yro-
graphy.as it is designated, is done
after a little practice by any one hav-
ing the least art training or dexter-
ity and precision in drawing,
While there are sets of tools by
which finished work can be done, a
small-pointed poker, heated either
over a spirit lamp, or in a coal fire,
can bo made the instrument for fine
elTects> Not on!v lettering for raan-
tels, but designs in lights and shad¬
ows, for panels, screens, picture
frames, cabinets and brackets are
made by the poker point.
Good, well seasoned wood, free
from knots and cracks, must be used
to expect good results. It is said by
experts that elm shows the blackest
tracings, but that sycamore, holly
and lime, followed by the oak, ash
elm '. lend r8Bdlly ‘°
this work.
On any simple _ design or lettering ... .
the beginner can practice. There
are but few rules. The bright woman
will soon find the limitations and the
beauties of pyrography. The begin-
ner should trace upon a panel a sim-
p i 0 design, perfectly geometrical, and
with the heated poker or point fol-
j ow pattern with light, quick
strnkeg she should avoid resting
tho poker l for an instant, even, on
fltst louohing * the wood ot upon leav
mg . it, .. under „ A the .. penalty „ Q „ 0 u- T , of leaving
an unsightly hard dot or point,
" here th ^ shadows are deep the
point can be slowly touched again
and again. M ith practice the ama¬
teur can shade the wood etching
touched wood. It is well to first
lightly trace the outlines, when the
iron can afterwards go over the deep-
er portions at pleasure The dark
background is made bj fine parallel
lines crossed diagonally by others.
The same rules in regard to leaving
^] ie design untouched should be ob-
ser ved, as in any other kind of draw-
ing.
Smallest Colliery in the World.
h » The 3 the ’i— distinction V '- asC of ,° possessing f the fr" sl small. ““',l'
co ltery m the world. It » smutted
T’ tllc l “ lhe rs Arms - and “®° rda cm '
ployment , to two , workmen These h are
father and son. and thev combine m them-
*
selves the proprietors. managers, miners
an 1 hauliers of the undertaking. There
j? uo siding connecting the works with
any railway, and all the output is sold to
the householders who live iu the village
and its surroundings. It should be stated
that a stout little donkey does duty for a
horse, and performs his work well. The
coal has a ready sale and commands a
good price. .
~;-- - - 7 —-
signor t rispi, when in Rome, has
an escort of twenty-nine police offi-
eials, for which Italy pays $12,000 a
year Whenever he leaves the city
the cost of guarding him is increased
three or four fold.
WOM T t v iu> lx k" WORTiT)
PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR
FEMININE READERS.
PRACTICAL. BRIDES.
There are three girls in Pennsyl-
vania who are making a record for
good hard work. Ibex* are daughters
of .Joseph Manns, and they live in the
Mahoning valley aud act as engineer,
pumper and shipper in their father’s
colliery, which supplies the whole
valley. The family is going into busi¬
ness more extensively soon, a new
stope having been sunk.—New York
Telegram.
’'VINTER WAISTS.
Shirt waists of woolen materials will
be in existence this winter as much as
those of wash goods were in the sum¬
mer. Plaids are much liked for misses
and young women ; changeable effects
are eagerly sought for in all kinds of
goods. For instance, red and biue
changeable waists may be worn with n
red or a blue skirt, varying the stock
collar to match the skirt. Oue of
changeable green and gold may be
worn with a black or green skirt. —
Womankind. *
WOMEN CHESS PLAYERS.
In the spring of 1893 a few women
met informally and organized what is
now known as the < 6 Women’s Chess
Association of America.” In January,
1894, they elected their officers. Their
roll of membership is at present sev¬
enty-five, including a number of hon¬
orary members, selected from among
the best women players in England
and Ireland, the champion player of
England, Miss Mary Kudge and Mrs.
Rowland, of Ireland, being among the
number. For three years a game has
been in progress between Mrs. Row¬
land and a member of the American
Association, and the issue is still un¬
certain.—New York World.
PARADISE FOR THE NEW WOMAN.
Burmah would be a paradise for the
new woman if she could be induced to
emigrate thither, The Burmese
women are, according to a recent
writer, the freest on earth. Men and
women are equal. Both share inherit¬
ances alike. No trustees stand be¬
tween a woman aud her property, aud
when she marries no transfer is made.
She keeps her own property, her hus¬
band his. He has no legal control
over her actions at all. She does not
sacrifice her family name in marriage.
Property acquired with her husband
is held jointly in a legal partnership.
Burmese women go into business just
as the men do. \Vhen the marriage
occurs the woman will go on with her
trade, the man with his.—New York
World.
HONORS FROM THE QUEEN.
Miss Zelle de Lussan, an American
girl, has been the recipient of unus¬
ual attentions from Queen Victoria.
Three times Her Majesty has request¬
ed Miss de Lussan to sing at Windsor
Castle, a distinction not enjoyed by
Mme. Patti herself. The Queen was
so favorably impressed that she sent
her framed photograph and auto¬
graph to the singer, and later a deco¬
ration set in diamonds. Miss de
Lussan declares, after repeated con¬
versations with ihe Queen, that she is
“the most lovable, unassuming, tact¬
ful woman I have ever had the honor
of meeting. I love my country, and
I am as democratic as you like; but I
must say that these ceremonial com¬
pliments are an incentive to art that
we do not seem to value in America.”
—New York Recorder.
WHAT EUGENIE WORE.
The Empress usually wore velvet of
rich, dark colors, which were particu¬
larly becoming to her exquisitely fair
complexion, says Anna L. Bioknell, in
The Century. The Emperor liked to
see her richly dressed and often ob¬
jected to the extreme simplicity of
her morning attire, which, it must be
acknowledged, was often too fanciful
to be appropriate to her high position.
Everything she wore was well made
and perfectly neat; her hair was
beautifully dressed ; but she liked the
comfort of loose bodices of red flan¬
nel with a plain black skirt over a red
flannel underskirt, all of which was
concealed when she went out by a
handsome cloak and the fur coverings
of the open carriage. I have seeu
her wear, within the palace, a tight
jajket </f knitted black wool, with a
gray border, over the silk and crepe
dress which she wore as second mourn¬
ing for her sister, the Duchess of
Alva. It was a sort of wrap which
one Would expect to see on the
shoulders of some old crone bending
over her fire, rather than on the grace¬
ful figure of the beautiful Empress of
the French. I might, quote other in¬
stances, such as a loose jacket of a
small black and white check bordered
with red flannel.
COLLECTED MEMORIES.
Trip-books are a novelty, th/past and many
of tbesummer girls ol season
now maki iSi them Th consist
f h , r e m eC ences of different
summer outings, illustrated by un-
mounted photogr.ps * or pen and ink
sketches. Or, if -p the *.u summer „ girl • , has , „
taken one long trip during tne sum-
mer or remained at one particular re-
sort, the trip-book is made up of short
accounts of her most memorable days
during these times. She has jotted
down, either mentally or on paper,
the particular things she wished to re-
member, and is now elaborating upon
them and arranging them iu book
form.
igjjBoth the pages and the cover of the
trip-book should be made of Bristol
paper. Gray is a good color to use.
£ ac h page should be illustrated either
w jth an unmounted photograph of the
place written about or a pen and ink
sketch of something suggestive of the
day. The writing matter need only
be a short description of the place or
just a few lines relating to some little
incident pertaining to that particular
day. Anything, in fact, which will
recall pleasant memories of that sum*
mer day’s outing. The date should be
clearly written in one corner of the
page, and a flower which may,
haps, mean much to the owner, may
decorate another part of the page.
The cover of the trip-book may oe
ornamented in various ways. Just a
plain binding of sage green satin rib-
bon, with the words “Memories of
Summer Days” printed on the cover
in green letters and outlined with
bronze, looks artistic, Another
simple and yet effective decoration
may be obtained by a sealing-wax
stamp when it shows the impress of an
old Roman coin. This maybe stamped
on the cover proper or upon a band of
satin ribbon which crosses the oovor
diagonally. A large monogram well
executed is always an effective cover
decoration.
FASHION NOTES,
Cloth revers of a contrasting color
from the growns are quite the vogue.
Double revers are also iu favor.
Ivory tinted lace will be much worn
as a trimming for evening gowns this
season. Tho deep cream tints are not
as popular as of old.
Fur tails will be used as a trimming
on many of tho more exclusive gowns
this winter. They will trim .evening
gowns as well as street frocks.
Gowns of dark blue sergo and mo¬
hair this fall show blouse vests and
stock collars of Persian silk, Tho
combination makes an exceptionally
stylish frock.
A new cape has the upper half made
of cloth, wrought iu tho utmost elabo¬
rateness with braiding and embroid¬
ery. The lower half and the collar aro
of Persian lamb.
It is the rough materials which are
having things all their own way this
fall. The boucle cloths, cheviots and
silk and wool mixtures are the most
fashionable of the many new fabrics.
A hat for a tiny girl is male of
plaitings of taffeta set one over an¬
other to form a brim. The crown lias
an upright trimming of the plating
and there are very large bows on
either side.
The latest evening wrap to attract
attention is a deep cape made entirely
of black ostrich leathers. The feath-
ers are fastened to a thinly wadded
silk lining, and they form a wrap of
great beauty.
Millinery shows exceedingly Rmall
bonnets elaborately trimmed with jet
or other beads. One model has a vel¬
vet plaiting upon the edge of which is
set a very tine jet fringe. The trim¬
ming is of gold bird-of-paradise feath¬
ers.
A comfortable and convenient wrap
is a three-quarter length cape pro¬
vided with large pockets and arm¬
holes at the sides. Over these is an¬
other cape aud a hood, also a collar
that may be rolled up around the
throat if desired.
Au attractive hat for a young lady
is made of platings of very flue cloth.
These plaitings are just full enoL jh to
make a ruffle around the edge, and
there are three of them, one above tho
other. The trimming is of velvet
roses, velvet loops and wings.
A. stylish hat is of black leghorn.
It has a rather wide brim, and is rolled
closely up to the crown at the back.
It is trimmed with butterfly bows and
loops of iridescent ribbon, and has a
large cluster of full-blown roses exact¬
ly over tho middle of the front.
A bonnet for a little girl is made
with the crown of solid embroidery.
The brim is of openwork embroidery
and lace, and is slightly plaited over
the top and falls almost straight down
either side of the front. Ribbon
strings are tied in a bow under the
chin.
A dainty dress for a doll has a vel¬
vet petticoat aud silk skirt with an
embroidered edge. The waist of silk
is close-fitting, aud an Eton jacket of
velvet is worn with it. The sleeves
are large and have close bands at the
wrists. A sailor hat with a wing is
set on over the yellow curls.
A child of five years has a dress
with skirt made of cambric elaborately
embroidered. The waist is gathered
into a yoke and belt, the sleeves are
full puffs to the elbows with v/ide ruf¬
fles of embroidery below. An Eton
jaoket of velvet and a very wide velvet
sash tied with long loops and ends
make an appropriate and dressy finish.
A Farmer’s Find.
John Stauffer has made an impor¬
tant discovery of anthracite coal on
his farm, back of Cherry Ran, W. Va.,
twenty miles south of Hagerstown.
With the aid of his son and oue hired
man he has mined during the past two
or three months twenty tons of coal,
and landed the same at the top of a
sixty-foot shaft by hand. The
was carefully covered, and the mining
went on the strictest secrecy by the
light of an ordinary coai o.I lamp,
Stauffer has now started from the bot-
tom of the shaft to tunnel into the
mountain. • The er,. vein •_ is very thick
and the coal has been pronounced
equal to the bhamokiu a ey produc .
Stauffer s tract embiaces ( OJ acres,
but his land is poor and ms means are
limited. Some time ago options were
secured on neighboring lands, but
prospecting met with no resnlts. Be-
fore Stauffer had investigated the ex-
tent of the vein he is now working he
tried to enlist the aid of local capital-
ists in the formation of a company,
but was not successful. After this he
started right in to work, keeping his
movements secret and making sur-
prising discoveries,—St. Louis Globe-
Democrat.
NESTING IS A BIG CHIMNEY.
Thousands of Swallows Choose a
Queer Lodging House.
Myriads of chimney 6 waiiows at*
tract considerable attention everv
night in Kansas City when they are
getting ready to retire for the night.
They make their home in a tall, un-
m
J
m r W
m I f 0
THE MAD WHIRL OF THE SWALLOWS.
used chimney, and the process of get¬
ting into the place is bath interesting
and impressive. At a quarter to 7 the
sv,’allows begin to gather. As the min¬
utes pass birds come from "all direc¬
tions, until the sky is black with them.
They skim about in an aimless way
until about 7 o’olock; then, with no
apparent leadership, they form and
begin to oircle about in the air in a
large oval directly above the chimney
at the northeast corner of the Vine¬
yard Building. Other birds, coming
up, join the oircle, until thousands of
them are iu tho mad whirl. At 7.15,
with no apparent signal, they begin
to pour into the chimney liko water
from a pitcher. Down they tumble,
thousands of them, until one wonders
if there is an underground outlet to
the chimney, whioh hardly seems large
enough to hold them all. In a few
minutes they are out of sight.
After all are in, come a few strag¬
glers who attempt to enter the chim¬
ney also. These are driven away by
the birds inside. Then the stragglers
fly up until they reach the spot waere
the general whirl commenced, and
they, too, fly around the circle several
times and then dive into the ehimuey.
There are always a number of onri-
ous people in front of the building
watching the birds. One old colored
man is there every evening. He says
he has watched the birds for several
years in this great act of chimney fill¬
ing. They always choose a dead chim¬
ney somewhere about the city for
their lodging house. Last year they
occupied Main a large brick ohimney on
street.
The Youthful King ot Spain,
Alfonso XIII., King of Spain, was
born in Madrid, and proclaimed King
on May 17, 1886, about six months
alter the death of his father, Alfonso
XII., who died at El Pardo, a royal
domain in the vicinity of Madrid, on
November 25, 1885. The young King,
sga
I m
[?
V,
. eb
HCr-
o •
? * '■
■ ■■* « V tf.v
.
*
•>
s ~
ALFONSO XIII., KINO OF SPAIN.
whose portrait is here given, is well
grown for his age, and m good health.
He is fond of outdoor sports, rides and
rows well, is an expert bicyclist, and
a good gymnast.
While at Madrid, during the winter
months, he takes long walks and drives
around the hills of El Pardo and its
picturesque avenues. The summer is
passed with his mother at Miramar,
which is finely situated in the beauti¬
ful bay of San Sebastian, where he en¬
joys bathing in the sea and the invig¬
orating breezes. Daring a recent trip
taken by the Royal family of Spain,
in the cruiser , lela . de , T Luzod, on the ,,
coast, near Biarritz, the hoy King
ff red °ff his first cannon with a sang
froid and decision which will no doubt
, id ,, o1 , .“/A , , bo rm y and
for both of t which pretensions ? . , he
»«* mamfests great enthusraem.
High Mountain Observatory.
A considerable sum of money is an-
uua lJy expended in maintaining high
mountain observatories. A meteoro-
graph has recently been constructed
f or the summit of Mount Blanc, at a
cost of $4000, the clockwork of which
remain in action without any at-
ation for eight months. The high-
es t of the observatories is at the top
n r ^Jisti, near Arequipa, Pern,
w hicli is 19,200 feet above sea level.
The observatory od Mount Washing-
ton is 6283 feet above sea level, the
uae on Pike’s Peak 14,134 and the one
0a yx onn t Blanc 15,780 feet.—New
y D ik Sun.
NO. 3.
THE MYSTERY OF LOVE.
The million stars that throng the skies
A score of mcons would make;
Yet now their twinklings just suffloo
The gloom of night to break.
So friendship may the offering be
Of scores of royal hearts.
Yet fail to give tho ecstasy
That lovo alone imparts.
—Joseph W. Quiuu, in Womankind.
HUMOR OF THE HAY.
As a rule, when a 6 tory is funny, il
is not true. — Atchison Globe.
If nobody considers you a crank,
you must have attraoted very little at¬
tention.
Tho family tree would be all very
tine if it were not all tree and no
crop. —Life.
A dog will always fight another dog
quicker if it has a ribbon around its
neck.—Atchison Globe.
“I will snatch a kiss I” heexclaimed.
"I verily believe,” she faltered, shyly,
"you have the face to try it on.”
The man who oau compose a song
without the word "Oh” at the begin¬
ning should be given a medal.-—Peck’s
Sun.
Friend—“Was the season satisfac-
torv?” Actoi—"Well, wo escaped
with our lives aud some of our
trunks?”
It is hard to believe that a man is
telling the truth when you kuow you
would lio were you in his place. —Bos¬
ton Transcript.
Cave Gnome—“What’s driving you
ashore?” Sea Serpent (shudderingly)
— “The mermaids are trying to wear
bloomers.” —Chicago Tribune.
Here ‘s a fact that’s true to the cynic
As to the oi l gray-bearded sage:
Tlie up-to-date woman is never
Eight square up to date in her age.
—Puck.
"Miss Passe indulged in somewhat
withering sarcasm when Rho was talk¬
ing of yon.”‘ ‘It is her privilege, poor
thing. She is somewhat withering
herself.”—Indianapolis Journal.
"Anyhow,” said Dismal Dawson,
"they ain’t no man can lay his hand
on his heart and say truthfully that I
took his job of work away from him,
and thr,t goes l”—Indianapoli 8 Jour¬
nal.
"Better wait awhile,” said the Cuna-
mingsville sage. "After you get to be
1 few years older you won’t want any¬
thing to live for. Just living will be
considerable satisfaction.” — Cincin¬
nati Enquirer.
Hortenee—"I suppose there is al¬
ways something in life to spoil a man’s
happiness?” Van Jay—"Yes; if a
man is poor he can’t be happy, and if
if I 10 is rich the chances are he will
get married. Brooklyn Eagle.
The Guest- "Here! What do you
mean by waking me up three times
this morning and telling me it is
breakfast time? And here I catch you
running away with the sheet.” Boy—-
"Well, you see, sir, we’vo got to git
the tablecloth whether you get up or
uot.”—Tit-Bits.
Old Mercator (to little Billy Ducks,
pist left school, who applies for situa¬
tion as office bov, and produces testi¬
monial from clergy nan) — "\Ve don’t
want you on Sundays, my good little
ooy. Have you a reference from any
one who knows you on week days?”—
■Sydney Bulletin.
"Why,” asked Dismal Dawson,
leaning over the fence, "why do you
seep on diggin’ when the boss ain’t
tround!” "Because I really like tho
tob,” said the new farm hand. "Got
real likin’ fer work?” "3ure 1 "
1
"You’d orter take treatment.”—Tn-
lianapolis Journal.
Judge B. fell down a flight of stairs,
recording his passage in a bump on
3 very stair unlil he reached the bot-
tom. A servant ran to his assistance,
and raising him up said: "I hope
your Honor is not hurt?” "No,” said
the Judge, sternly. "My honor is not
hurt, but my head is. ”
The latest addition to Americana
ibroad is the bmart saying of a New
York girl to an E nglishmau who took
her in to dinner. "I sometimes won-
ler what becomes of all the peaches
iu your country.” he said, "Oli, we
eat what we can, and can what we .
can’t,” answered the ready-tongued
maid.—New York Sun.
First Office Boy—"Do you like your
job?” Second Office Boy- "Naw!
The typewriter is thirty-five, the book¬
keeper’s sore ’cause he can’t be a dude
on $8 a week, the instalment company
took the head clerk’s bicycle away
from him last week cause he hadn’t
P al(1 u |\°“ 1 . ’ "IS the boss won’t let
“ e wbl8tle R P lere. ’’—Somerville
Journal.__
A Remarkable u og.
*'I have a dog,” said a minister,who
had just heard a precocious crow story,
“who is very sagacious. One Sunday
he followed me to church and sat
among the people and watched my
movements in the pulpit. That after¬
noon l heard a terrible howling in my
back yard, and of course I went to see
what it meant. I found my dog wa 9
in a woodshed, standing on his hind
legs in a dry goods box. He held
down a torn almanao with one paw and
gesticulated with the other, while he
swayed his head and howled as to at
audience of four other dogs even more
i°g-*” sadlv than I had done in the morn-
The narrator of the crow story
threw up the sponge.—London Tit
Bits.
tTiy Coal Is Whitewasnefl.
The whitewashing of ooal loaded in
cars is not for the sake of oleanliness,
but for the purpose of detecting theft.
Thieving can only be done by dis¬
placement of the outer layer* of ooal.
—Washington Star.